


FOLD

by Roseus



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, but mostly k/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6510313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roseus/pseuds/Roseus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The collective crew of the enterprise are too stubborn to admit a crush. However, they are also all nosy. The balance of these qualities manifests in a little ship tradition.</p>
<p>Or, Spock generally does not know what's going on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FOLD

**Author's Note:**

> WELP putting this out in the world cause I Finished It.

For Spock, it started with a game of poker.

When not avoiding various cataclysms, there is not much to do on a Starship. Those who had been aboard longer became masters of distraction- Spock himself was evidence of that, with his intensive meditation and frequent chess games with the captain. But the younger crew members, who did not have that advantage, were often prone to gossip. 

This is how he became aware that doctor McCoy had dragged Jim off the bridge as soon as his shift ended, swiping a deck of cards from his office. This, on its own, seemed strange. If anything, Jim seemed like the one who should have been doing the dragging. By the time McCoy came to collect Spock, and he could make his own observations, it was clear why the younger officers had taken note. McCoy had a near manic glint in his eye, and Jim was oozing silent panic. 

“It’s poker night, and you’re coming with!” Jim visibly flinched at the outburst. “I already comm’d Scotty, Carol, Sulu, and Uhura. Chapel’s too virtuous, bless her heart. Chekov’s… somewhere, but I’ve gotta set up, so you,” he emphasized by pointing to Spock, “are gonna go get him.” Spock noted that his southern accent came out when he was excited.

Before Spock could respond, they were gone, leaving nothing but McCoy’s echoing laughter in their place. He supposed it didn’t matter whether or not they stayed- it didn’t appear to be a request. He wasn’t surprised at this point. They were over a year into their five-year mission, and he had grown used to the eccentricities of his friends. 

This, however, was exceptionally odd. He thought about it as he traversed the corridors looking for Ensign Chekov. While similar spontaneous ventures were not uncommon among the crew, it was unusual for McCoy to be the catalyst. It was also unusual for Jim to be anything but enthusiastic over these activities. He seemed to have had a particularly adverse reaction when McCoy mentioned poker. 

Chekov, as it turned out, was in a supply closet in Engineering. He had brought several large books on varying subjects. He could see a sort of strategic genius in choosing this place- he could avoid the crew without ever having to confront them about it. It was a difficult thing to do, as it seemed, on the Enterprise, something was always afoot. In this case Chekov’s effort had failed, and misadventure was here to claim him all the same.

“I have been informed that McCoy is holding a poker night. Your presence is requested.” He had given no warning of his presence. Chekov started, hitting his head on the shelf just above him, and dislodging several books. Despite this, he broke out in a grin.

“Poker? I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

Odd.

He realized at this point he still didn’t know where this poker night was being held. Having some faith in the doctor’s organizational skills, he checked his communicator. Indeed, McCoy had already left a message specifying that they were meeting in the Captain’s quarters. Spock informed Chekov of this as he helped pull him out from under his pile of books. 

They now shared a destination, so they walked together. Chekov was rather cheerful. Usually he seemed to be intimidated by Spock, but he smiled even through the conspicuous silence. It seemed the captain and McCoy were not the only ones acting anomalously. It was sometimes difficult to divine the meanings of fluctuations in his associates behaviors, seeing as it followed no set reasoning. He was simultaneously curious, and… mildly terrified of what this night would bring.

The door was already open. Spock had lost some time looking for Chekov, so they were the last to arrive. Someone had brought out a table and chairs, though the who and how were not apparent. Uhura was at the far right end, looking dangerously smug. To her right were Mr. Scott, who had brought a bottle of questionable contents, McCoy, and Carol Marcus. Across from them was Sulu, who had saved a seat for Chekov. Jim was on the end opposite of Uhura, wholly absorbed in his shuffling. Spock took a seat between Chekov and Jim. He wondered, briefly, if he should have protested more. 

Despite circumstance, the game went relatively normally. It was one of the less life threatening of their recent group activities, which was always a plus, and was generally pleasing. Jim did not seem to agree. He noticed his shoulders stayed taught, and his movements tight throughout the entire game. It was beginning to set Spock on edge when Jim suddenly stood up.

“I fold, you son of a bitch!” he exclaimed. This was addressed to McCoy, who did not even flinch. In fact, he just smiled sweetly. People were starting to snicker around the table.

“Darlin’, we’re gonna need to make a new rule it’s got so high.”

“We could do it by month,” Uhura chimed in.

“Shut up! Shut up, all of you. I’m gone!” he said this with a wide gesture, directed towards them, and then the door. Then he exited his quarters. Spock suddenly violently confused. Scotty, on the other hand, was practically hysterical.

“Did you see his face? Ha! Oh, I knew I should have brought a camera.”

“I can’t believe,” Sulu pitched in, before dissolving into giggles. McCoy just leaned back in his chair, looking victorious. Spock decided there is no way he will figure out what has just transpired without asking.

“Doctor, forgive my lack of specificity, but what has just happened?”

“Bones. And Jim owes me- twenty?” he looks to Uhura, who nods, “Twenty credits.”

“…That is not a helpful explanation.”

“Yeah, I’m getting to that. Gather ‘round kids.” He settled in and the others scooted closer in their chairs, giggling like schoolchildren. Spock just blinked, owlishly. “Course you all know already, except for Spock. I knew I should have made Chapel come.”

“You would not!” exclaimed Uhura.

“The reason is... a game technically.” McCoy paused, organizing his thoughts. “Have you ever played uncle?” Spock shook his head. “Of course not, stupid question. I’ll start somewhere else. The game is called fold, and the rules are pretty simple.”

* * *

For Jim and Bones, it started back in the academy. In fact, it started with a certain gorgeous cadet with legs for miles and a brain like a computer. Jim was totally gone on her. Complete infatuation. Bones started to notice as soon as Jim stopped paying any attention in the class they shared. He got a horribly stupid look on his face, and Bones would have sworn he doodled hearts in his notebooks. The worst part was that he wouldn’t even admit it. 

At some point, in the way of students, they all managed to get in the same place and relatively drunk. It was a party of some kind, Bones didn’t really remember anymore. She, Jim, Bones, and a good sized group of friends were having a pleasant conversation that did not involve karaoke, no matter what Jim says. Well, scratch that, it did, but it had nothing to do with him. At one point she got up to sing and Jim was staring at her like she was spouting a literal siren’s song and not a pitchy rendition of a candy-cute pop song. Bones was done watching him ogle.

“Admit it.”

“Admit what?” Jim replied, absently. McCoy could barely hear him over the upbeat music. 

“You like on her!” Jim finally looked away. 

“Izumi? How much have you had to drink?” Bones just snorted. 

“You’re crazy, Bones. You’re seeing things.” he rambled. Unfortunately, the blood flowing to his face was betraying him. “I do not feel anything about anyone.”

“Oh, shut up. You like her.” Jim protested for a truly annoying amount of time. He was adamant. He did not have a crush. That was childish and impossible. 

Jim was stubborn, but McCoy could be just as much. “You know what? You’re going to owe me a credit for every day you don’t admit it. I’m too old for this.”

Jim held out for a valiant five days. Day five saw him back in class with her, back to staring at the back of her head. He couldn’t help it; her hair was just so pretty. Bones had elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re bleeding,” he said.

“What?”

“You’re showing your hand.” Bones grinned. Caught red handed.

Jim just sighed, and dropped his head into his hands. “That’s a really lame card joke. Why a card joke?”

“Jim.”

“Fiiiiiine. Fine. I guess I fold, then.”

Of course, she had a very tall boyfriend, but that’s a story for another time. 

* * *

The second time, Bones maintains, was ridiculously unfair. He had just settled into a routine. Every Thursday, he would stop in at the same hole in the wall coffee shop. He said he went because of their pastries, but he was really there for the barista, Charlotte. She was a vision- dark curly hair and big brown eyes. Bones wouldn’t go into detail because unlike the Captain, he’s a gentleman. He would ask her for whatever was best that day, and she would smile brilliantly at the opportunity to show off. It was a good arrangement.

Then, of course, Jim got involved. Despite the fact that they didn’t have any classes together on Thursdays, he managed to find Bones as he was leaving. His professor had been an asshole that day, apparently. Bones was only half listening, but unfortunately forgot a) where he was going and b) why Jim should definitely not be with him. The benefit of routine is that you don’t have to think about it. 

He remembered just about when Charlotte greeted him. “Who’s your friend, Len?” she asked sweetly. Suddenly, the situation occurred to him. Bones almost walked out right then. 

“Jim Kirk. What about you?” Jim said with his trademark flirt-voice, walking the knife edge between friendly and suggestive. Bones grabbed his arm and physically dragged him away with a hurried ‘the usual, thanks.’

He cringed at his own choice of words. He had a usual. He really hoped Jim wasn’t paying any attention; he could do without the teasing. 

They grabbed a table by the window. It appeared that he had gotten lucky- Jim seemed oblivious enough. Thank God. He was due for something good to happen to him. They got their pastries, and Jim continued to bitch amicably. Eventually they left, and it turned into another pleasantly uneventful evening, which turned into another pleasantly uneventful week. Soon it was Thursday again. 

If there’s a moral to this story, it’s that you will never get away with anything around James T. Kirk. It simply isn’t possible. He is drawn, like a magnet, to spoiling secrets. 

That Thursday, he stopped by to borrow a book from Kirk. He was just leaving when Jim spoke up. “Have fun with Charlotte.” Bones’s head whipped around. He knew, the bastard. “Aw, come on. You always disappear on Thursdays. A barista who calls you Len. You have a usual. It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He replied coolly. 

“Fine then. Remember the thing with Izumi? Same deal. One credit for every day.”

Bones sighed. Continuing the farce would only be making a fool of himself. “Alright, alright. She’s cute, okay? Fold.” He said that last part as a dramatic reenactment of Jim’s concession last time. He meant it only as a parting shot, but it was sort of the start of a pattern.

“I like that, we should keep it. Also, you still owe me seven credits. We’re counting from when I noticed.”

“Why on earth would we do that?”

He just shrugged. “Cause I want you to owe me, and it’s more fun that way?”

Bones didn’t reply, which was as good as an agreement. He could use this against Jim later, and that was good enough for him. 

* * *

Needless to say, it didn’t work out with Charlotte. He’s in space now, after all. There was one other time that officially made it a pattern, and another that would not be spoken of as long as Bones lived, but the next important one was the theatre major. This was Bones’ personal favorite. 

This was not long after the time that is not spoken of, so Bones was particularly eager to use their game against Jim. It didn’t take long. In the early spring he and Jim went to a study group a friend had put together. There, they met Marely. Marely was really something else. They were very charismatic and genuine; everyone seemed to gravitate towards them. They weren’t an academy student, but the study group was for a standardized course, so it all worked out. 

It wasn’t as obvious as the first time, but Leonard could tell. Probably because he was watching that boy like a hawk for any vulnerability. And boy, he found one. Jim stuck around them a little longer than the average person, social magnetism aside. Eventually it got him an invitation to the production they were in. McCoy was up reading when Jim burst in late that night. He looked genuinely dazzled. “They’re so good! I didn’t think- you should have seen it Bones! They preform like you stab people with hypos! There’s real passion there!” 

Leonard just kept his head down, smile hidden behind his book. 

At the next session for their study group, Marely looked a bit worse for wear. They were as cheerful as always in conversation, but everyone could tell something was off. “Everything alright?” Bones asked eventually.

“It’s nothing. It’s just- one of our actors is sick. We’re lucky it’s a small part.”

“Don’t they have an understudy?”

“Well yes, but what we didn’t know was that he was sleeping with his understudy. You’re a doctor; I bet you can imagine how that went.” They laughed nervously.

“That must take a certain type of egotism. Wait. This is the same show as last week right?” Something of an idea was starting to form in a dark, maniacal part of Bones’ brain. 

“Yes, why?”

“Well, if you’re really hard pressed, Jim could do it.”

“What?”

“Kid has a near photographic memory if he’s paying attention-” and boy was he that night, “-so I bet he could repeat the entire play to you if you asked. He’s an alright actor too. Has to lie his way out of stuff too often not to be.”

“Really?” They looked so relieved Leonard almost felt bad about being opaque. Jim hated preforming. He could appreciate it from others, and he could technically do it, but he always said it was too weird, too flashy, and too embarrassing when he tried it himself. In other words, it was perfect revenge fodder. 

Marely bounced over to formally ask Kirk. Leonard couldn’t hear, but he definitely saw when Jim looked over their shoulder and directly at him. That look said everything that needed to be said. Bones just smiled. There was no world in which Jim was going to turn them down- he was an asshole, sure, but that was purposeful, and he always turned into a mess when he had a crush anyways. 

Later that night he got the response in full. “Bones,” Jim deadpanned, “What the fuck.”

“What? Don’t you want to help your new friend in their time of need?”

“What the fuck.”

“You better go get ready.” Jim just sighed and wandered off to do just that. “I bought a ticket!”

“Bones!” It came out a full octave higher than Leonard had expected. A new record.

The show went off without a hitch. Sure enough, Jim was able to recite all the lines with all the right movements in all the right places. Bones was the only one who could see Kirk suffering, and he spent the entire time Kirk was on stage giggling. God, it was so bad. It was amazing. It was the perfect retribution for… yeah. Also, the show was pretty damn good.

But of course, because this was James Tiberius Kirk, it couldn’t all go according to plan. When he walked off stage after his last scene, the sound techs forgot to mute his mic. 

“Son of a motherfucking cock! Leonard, wherever you are, I fold.” He muttered. And the whole auditorium heard. 

Leonard, as a medical doctor, was worried for the state of his internal organs he laughed so hard. The actors were in about the same state. It’s not like there was much else they could do at that point. There were a lot of scandalized older folks and god he wishes he could have seen Jim’s face. Later he was told by the stagehands he had been as red as an apple in June. Bones would forever maintain Jim had jinxed it by making the apostrophe in the first place.

Later, Marely had laughed it off and said that that’s live performances for you, but Jim was way too embarrassed to even go near them again. Hell, he never went on that campus again. It didn’t stop Leonard from bringing home a copy of the campus newspaper, which ran a fluff peice on what the non-sequitur could possibly mean. They were enjoying the mystery of a one off actor with no name. 

That one was the one he told Uhura.

* * *

Between the incident with Marely and the next, through an unexpected string of events, Jim managed to become the Captain of a starship. Before the rhythm of easy chaos they would all come to know and love, the atmosphere on the enterprise was mostly awkward. That’ll happen when you slap together the youngest crew in Starfleet history, none of whom know each other. Everyone was on edge, and no one really knew what to do. 

On one day, Bones and Jim had stopped by one of the recreation rooms to settle a bet via Mancala. Jim hadn’t seemed bothered by his loss, which struck Bones as odd. Jim then suggested a game of poker. They called over some loiterers and dealed. They were five minutes in before Bones realized what had happened. “You dramatic bastard.”

“What?” Jim crooned. “Are you going to have to…fold?” His expression was oh so perfectly innocent.

“Are you going to have to fold,” McCoy mocked. “Hi, I’m Jim Kirk, I can’t mind my own business.”

“It’s your fault! You’re the one who made up the game!”

“Excuse me.” They both snapped to attention, having forgotten about the others. It was Lt. Uhura.

“I’m assuming McCoy didn’t invent poker, so what are you talking about?” she seemed very amused. McCoy seized the opportunity to score the next point in their never-ending game of one-upmanship in assholery. 

“Did I ever tell you about the time Jim accidently cussed out a whole theatre?”

“Bones, no!”

“I don’t think I have.”

* * *

Leonard wouldn’t say that was the turning point for the crew, but it did indicate a larger pattern. Little by little, the Enterprise was warming up. More importantly, they were a lean, mean, diplomatic machine. By the time the incident with Maabas rolled around, they could go toe to toe with just about anyone in the galaxy, including undying vulcanoid offshoots. 

This, Spock could personally remember. Maabas, or Kenis Prime, was a peaceful but often xenophobic planet. It had recently signed a treaty with the federation when it was threatened by an unknown force. The attackers called themselves Kenisians, and claimed to have been the original people of Maabas- the people that lived there currently had been refugees of an interstellar conquest. Between the onset of the conflict and its resolution, there were a mess of plot twists. It was revealed the Kenisians were actually vaguely related to Vulcans, and practiced the transfer of katra from the dying to the young, ad infinitum. Each being was a hive mind. They weren’t actually there to take back Maabas, either. They were looking for a weapon of mass destruction that they had left behind, in order to use it against their own former conquerers, who were coincidentally the same conquerers that had chased out the Maabas people, and were also, unknown to all, a dead race due to space piracy.

It was a highly unpleasant business. Spock had been taken hostage alongside the Maabas ambassador, and he preferred not to discuss his escape. By the time the Enterprise had arrived, most of the Kenesians were in various states of mental instability- some catatonic- and Spock was locked in a mind meld with their commander Zhatan. It had worked. Spock had separated the individual Zhatan from her mass of ancestors who still wanted revenge. Zhatan, now in control of herselves, sought peace.   
Spock had suffered heavy psychic damage. For this reason, he was not at the gala following the peace agreement with the Kenisians. Also for this reason, he had not been there when his associates had met Nurse Chapel, who had burst through the door with a landing party of reinforcements who were supposed to arrive a week before. Ambassador Pippenge of the Mabaas kindly invited them to join the party.

Zhatan was there as the ambassadors of Kenis. She was relatively stable now, and trying to find balance for her people. She was in dress uniform like everyone else, but when Maabas council members tried to discuss policy with her, it became clear she was not intending to do actual work that night. Zhatan was much too preoccupied with her XO and recently reconciled-with girlfriend, Nidal. Kirk had intended to formally introduce his crew, but only an hour into the party, he couldn’t find them anywhere. Still, he was pretty sure he had to network with someone, so he set about meeting the rescue party.

“No!” Christine giggled.

“Yes!”

“You tractor beamed the star?!” 

“Well, I didn’t. I owe it all to my helmsmen. I give them these absolutely bat shit suggestions, and they always pull it off! I’m telling you, plasma stream, straight into the torpedoes.” Kirk beamed. “My crew’s the best. Uhura, testify for me.”

Along with him that night were Carol and Nyota. Everyone else was busy dealing with the fallout of their latest ordeal. Even his cultural officer was helping in engineering. These two superstars, however, had managed to keep their stations in at least functional condition, and deserved a break. “I am the best,” Uhura said. She could see Jim getting excited again.

“She is! She fixed her own station’s wiring cause she was bored waiting for engineering to do it. Not to mention picking up and decrypting Spock’s distress call, which is another crazy story! He built a subspace communicator from a probe and Pippenge’s short range communication implant. Spock’s wicked smart.” The lieutenants shared an amused look. 

“It’s all terribly exciting. We never see much action; our ship does more milk runs than anything.” Christine lamented. Perhaps it was strange for a nurse to crave more danger, but treating the occasional strained muscle wasn’t why she signed up for Starfleet. 

“We’re always looking for talent,” Carol pitched in. “The enterprise seems to have a knack for getting in trouble. It takes skill to get out of it.” Beside her, Nyota hummed her assent. Christine looked over at her own crew, who were chatting pleasantly amongst themselves.

“I’d be lying if I said I’m not thinking about it.” She mused. “If I decide to transfer, I’ll know who to call.” With that, she winked and disappeared into the crowd. Uhura watched her go over the rim of her glass. She took a long sip.  
“Fold.”

Jim choked on his drink. 

* * *  
“So does that make any sense?” McCoy asked.

“No.” responded Spock brusquely. McCoy shrugged.

“Fair enough. But you get the point of the game?’

“Yes. To stimulate romantic progress and in the process, gain monetarily.” Sulu, Chekov, and Carol, all broke into giggles at ‘stimulate.’ Spock only found this irritating. “This game was initiated to convey to the captain that his senior officers are aware of his infatuation with someone, and have been for an extended period of time.” Spock found himself recalling his earlier note about McCoy’s intonation varying with his emotions. He could hear his own voice becoming flatter, his own diction more formal. Scotty winced.

Carol elbowed Nyota in the ribs. “Do something!” she whispered. 

“Spock,” Nyota said gently, “Use that higher intelligence of yours. Who is the Captain infatuated with?” 

Spock bristled. “Such speculation would hardly be professional.” 

It was a weak statement, considering. He couldn’t claim professionalism when he was currently playing poker with the majority of the senior staff. He had become accustomed to such practices, slowly, without noticing. Perhaps it was time reevaluate his conduct. Nyota gave him a look, prodding him to go on. 

“It is none of you, unless humans are crueler than I am aware. Ms. Chapel’s odds are increasingly low. I highly doubt anyone other than a senior officer would be the object of the captain’s… attention.”

“So who does that leave?” Carol baited. Indeed. He was confident in his assessment, but most of the senior officers were in this…

Oh.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have urgent business to attend to.” Even as he said it, he was standing up and heading for the door. Behind him, the other officers whooped and laughed, quite unprofessionally. He found he didn’t mind.

Where he walked, the halls were empty. The sound of his footsteps echoed off the walls as he sped to the turbolift. For a brief moment he wondered where he should be going, but with the captain’s quarters occupied, there was really only one place Jim would have gone. 

The observation deck was barely ever used outside of events. Anyone could theoretically stop by, but life on a starship was busy. However, the captain was a regular visitor. He had once told Spock that watching the stars created ‘poetic symmetry.’

Kirk was sitting on the floor at the far end of the room, with his knees pressed against the transparent section of hull. It wasn’t the most dignified position, but it was as close as he could get to being suspended in space. There were stars above and star below. There was something calm about that. He sighed as he heard the turbolift swoosh open. It was probably Bones or Nyota, here to give him some sage advice, or make fun of him, or most likely both.

“Who’s here to join the pouting and pining party?” He droned. 

“I believe that would be me.” Jim accidently slammed his elbow into wall he snapped around so fast.

“Spo- ow! Jesus, don’t do that!” Spock made no reply, just shifted awkwardly and hopefully imperceptibly. It occurred to him he had no real plan of action. Jim took his silence as offense.

“Sorry. It’s not like it’s your fault. You must be having a really bizarre day, ayways- they didn’t tell you what was going on, right?” Spock dropped to the floor beside him, elegantly, with his legs crossed. He still didn’t answer- wasn’t even looking him in the eye. Jim felt his heart casually drop into his gut.

Spock sensed his distress. His mouth opened and shut several times as he reached for something to say. He could feel his face flushing. He couldn’t find the words- he wasn’t exactly a model example for communicating emotions. suddenly, it occurred to him he could borrow someone else’s.

“…I fold.” 

Jim’s eyes widened, and his heart, which was getting quite a workout today, crawled out of his lower intestine in order to throw itself against his ribcage, repeatedly. “It has been brought to my attention that I should express… that I admire you. Romantically.” Spock valiantly attempted to actually look at Jim while he said this. He thought it was appropriate that the stars were reflected in his eyes.

“Well, gee.”

There wasn’t much else to say. Jim felt giddy, like a helium balloon, like his lungs were full of it. Tentatively, he reached for Spock’s hand. Spock had a small heart attack.

“You do realize that finger contact essentially constitutes a Vulcan kiss.” He sputtered. Jim, always with the last word, had a reply.

“No. Can I give you a human one?” He said quietly. Spock didn’t trust that his voice wouldn’t fail him. Instead he simply leaned in. Kirk’s eyes fluttered shut.

He kissed him, once, twice, three times. Each one lingered and tingled and begged for another. Jim kissed the corner of his mouth, his jaw, and the slight distance allowed him half of one clear thought. 

“Jim, perhaps we shouldn’t stay on the observation deck, We might be-“

“Observed?” Jim’s smile suddenly dropped to a frown. “Wait. Everyone’s still in my quarters, aren’t they?” Spock considered this for a moment, staring out into starry space.

“Would mine be amenable?” 

Jim perked up. No wonder the crew had caught on to him; he was an open book. It may have been a stressful night, but now, at the end of it, he was glad they had known. Everyone wins. Which is, he supposed, exactly what the game is about.

“Yes. I think they would.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! 'The Incident on Maabas' is taken entirely from 'Crisis of Consciousness' by Dave Galanter, up to the party. Commander Zhatan and her space girlfriend Nidal are indeed canon. If the plot seems strange d o n ' t b l a m e m e


End file.
